Incorporal Nightmare
by Speaker for the Dead aka 17
Summary: My Very First Voyager Fanfic was also my first serious piece of work. A suspicious series of murders on board the Voyager incites paranoia amongst the crew. Janeway must find the identity of the killer before it is too late...
1. Default Chapter

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Incorporeal Nightmare (Part One)

A _Voyager_ fanfic written by Lt Taya 17 Janeway circa 1999

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Author's foreword: This piece of work is strictly non-canon, which means everything goes, even major characters dying. (See my note at the end.) I have rated it PG-13 for violence (but absolutely no slash, I'm not that sick) I think. Also note that I have watched a grand total of **four** Voyager episodes so far (the local network doesn't carry any sci-fi at all, ***rage rage rage*** ) so any inconsistencies are NOT my fault. You have been warned.

Stardate: somewhere near 53049.2

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A Voyager fanfic brought to you by TaTTooGaL aka fROzen Lt. 17 of 26 (MERSTS)

An insistent chirp forced its way into a world without boundaries or limits, where reality merged with unreality to form a spectral world of hellish chaos. She futilely pushed the chirp away from the corners of her mind momentarily, hoping to snatch another moment of unsettled sleep.

The chirp sounded again, this time driving its way deep into the heart of her consciousness, rendering her unable to resist it.

Kathryn Janeway groaned and pushed herself upright. The blurry world around her coalesced into the sharp lines of her ready room as she focused on her surroundings and brought her mind back to the present. She blinked, unable to believe that she had fallen asleep while on duty.

Her commbadge beeped for the third time. With a sigh of irritation, she answered it. "Janeway here."

Chakotay's voice sounded from the commbadge. "Captain! I thought-"

"I know, I know," grumbled Janeway. "I fell asleep at my desk." She reached over for the cup of coffee on her desk and found that it was cold. Disgustedly, she pushed it away. "I was reading a report on the irrigation systems of the Marlok system." 

Chakotay's voice sounded vaguely amused over the commlink. "The Marlok ambassador, Ha'agden, is on board, waiting in the observation lounge."

Janeway nodded absently, running her fingers through disheveled hair. "I'll be right there. Janeway out." She terminated the commlink and stood up, wincing slightly at the sudden cricks in her back. _I'll need to have a medical checkup soon,_ she noted to herself as she headed for the observation lounge.

The observation lounge was unusually silent, noted Chakotay, as everybody had been cleared out of it, giving Ambassador Ha'agden a clear view of the stars and the blazing reddish planet beneath them. Ha'agden was the topmost ambassador of the Marlok colony on this planet, Lukas IV, and at eight feet he towered over everybody on board, even Chakotay. But it wasn't merely his height which made Chakotay uneasy, it was…. Something deeper within. Something that let Chakotay know that this man was hiding something from them.

The doors to the lounge slid open and Janeway strode in, hair mussed but otherwise showing no trace of having been asleep. It was only the years of experience with her which told Chakotay that how tired she really was.

Janeway smiled up graciously at the hulking Ambassador. "Ambassador Ha'agden," she said pleasantly. "We are honored by your presence on board our ship."

"As we are honored to have this cultural exchange, Captain Janeway," he replied a deep baritone which sounded like came rising from the depths of his belly. He drew his brow ridges together tightly and bowed in the traditional Marlok manner- a deep, half-waist twist with his hands clasped tightly on his nasal orifices. Janeway tried her best to emulate this, not very successfully.

"We are honored to present you with a _ta'andarr, _our symbol of peace for millennia past," he said, lifting an elaborately wrought circular sculpture the color of polished brass. Smiling, he placed the ta'andarr on Janeway's head. The ornament was meant to be worn on top of her head, but its wide circumference disallowed that, causing the ta'andarr to slip down and finally come to rest on her ears.

The corners of Chakotay's mouth didn't so much as twitch, but his body language made it pretty clear that he was amused.

Janeway shot him a dangerous look before turning to the Ambassador with a smile. "Thank you, Ambassador. Shall we proceed to the conference room and begin with the negotiations?"

Naomi Wildman pushed her way through a crowd of rowdy aliens who were blocking her way to the holodecks. Ever since the ship had docked at Lukas IV two days ago, there had been a steady stream of curious tourists coming onboard the _Voyager_, wanting to see for themselves the amazing technologies which this ship possessed. Well, it was fun at the start, but now it was getting rather annoying. These people were everywhere! And not to mention at the oddest hours too!

Naomi finally reached Holodeck Two which she had booked for the evening. Tonight, she was going to try something that Seven -or was it Harry?- had recommended – some ancient Earth story called Dr Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. It sounded spooky to her.

She stepped into the familiar grid of the holodeck and activated the program.

A cold biting wind suddenly hit her face, making her shudder. It was a dark wintry night on a desolate street. Gas lamps burned at periodic locations, casting their pale yellow light into the unsettling gloom. Naomi shivered and took a step forward. Her footstep seemed to reverberate in the yawning emptiness around her.

Another echo followed… and another, and another, and another. No, it wasn't echoes she was hearing, she realized, but the footsteps of a person approaching from across the street. A dark, hooded figure.

More footsteps- this time the light pitter-patter of a running child. Naomi's eyes widened in horror- the man and the girl were about to collide! She started up and ran across the road.

Too late, the pair rammed into each other with utmost force. But the hooded man did not stop, not even after running over the child! He just kept walking… trampling over the little girl, who shrieked in pain. She turned to face Naomi, and Naomi's heart stopped- whoever wrote this program had written her in as the little girl.

But nothing prepared Naomi for what was about to happen next. The hooded man, sensing the commotion behind him, turned and leered at Naomi. His face, cold and inhuman, sent chills down Naomi's spine. Snarling incoherently, he charged forward and leaped at her throat.

Naomi shrieked as his viselike grip clamped around her neck and shoved her backwards… then darkness totally overwhelmed her.

The conference room possessed a decidedly light moon, thought Janeway, as she surveyed it. All the bridge crew were here, exchanging pleasantries with Ambassador Ha'agden. She smiled inwardly but kept a solemn face as she reviewed their agreement again. The Marlok were a technologically competent race, but their technology was far more developed in terms of biotechnology than anything else. She ran through the list of what they could do –and couldn't –and tried not to get too excited about it. Their advances in biotechnology could greatly improve the Voyager's food supply --

Janeway's commbadge beeped, cutting off her thoughts midway. She tapped it with a touch of irritation. "Janeway here."

"C-captain?" whispered a shaky voice which she recognized as Ayala's. _What the hell happened to him?_ She wondered. "I think there's something you ought to see down here."

Janeway had never felt like throwing up more in her life. She stood in front of the doors to Ensign Erman's cabin and felt really, _really_ sick. For where there had once been a clean, pristine room housing a Starfleet officer was now a sick carnage covered in that Starfleet officer's remains.

Tom Paris stepped his way gingerly into the room, trying to find spots which were not covered in flesh and blood. Several times, he was unsuccessful and his boots made a distinct squelching sound when he stepped on it. Tricorder in hand, he tried to focus on his task, but the stench of oxidized flesh made that nearly impossible. His tricorder beeped softly, and he gratefully turned to attend to the distraction.

Five seconds later he regretted ever thinking that.

The tricorder pointed out that in the mass of once-living tissue lay a data padd. His stomach twisting, he bent down further to examine it. "I need a pair of surgical gloves," he grumbled by a way of a joke, but it did little to make him feel better. Holding his breath, he gingerly picked up the padd and straightened up.

Janeway watched Paris' face turn a shade of green as the blood ran and dripped off the edge of the padd. He bit his lip tightly and Janeway's insides lurched in sympathy.

"It appears to have a message on it," said Paris after a long pause. He headed over to Janeway who noted with a wave of nausea that Paris' boots left bloody tracks as he made his way out. Paris handed the padd to her, which Janeway reluctantly accepted with a touch of revulsion.

On the padd was written the words, "The end is just beginning." 

Naomi awoke in Sickbay with a lurch of fear. She last remembered the hideous man in the holodeck who had attacked her. Sitting up, however, he realized with relief that he was nowhere in sight. In fact, so was everyone –Sickbay was deserted "Doctor?" she asked uncertainly. "Computer, activate Emergency Med-"

"I may be incorporeal, but I am certainly not invisible!" grumped a voice from behind her. Naomi started in fright and jumped to face the Doctor. "Ah. It appears that our little patient has recovered.

Naomi nodded. "What happened? There was a –malfunction on the holodeck?"

The Doctor nodded. "So it would seem. Somebody shorted out the safety protocols and interfered with the holographic controls." He put on a more genial smile and asked, 'Would you like to see the research I've done on the Marlok colony?" He called up a screen, which showed strands of genetic material. "By using their refined methods in replicating and grafting certain portions of the ideal HYV strands, I have managed to produce a plant which can produce five times the yield of one in half the time- all in one hour!" He folded his arms and stood back to admire his work triumphantly.

Naomi nodded, but her thoughts lay focused elsewhere. 'That's very nice, but how about the holodeck? Could you tell me more about the holodeck malfunction?" A lump of worry grew in her throat.

Before the Doctor could answer her, the doors to Sickbay slid open, admitting the Captain and the rest of the senior crew, all of whom looked decidedly green. They were followed by the towering hulk of Ambassador Ha'agden and a antigrav sled on which rested a black utility box contained-

Naomi didn't want to know.

Janeway, voice tight, handed the Doctor a padd. "What do you make of this?" 

The Doctor took the padd, read the message and frowned. "'The end is just beginning.' It sounds like a…. death threat."

"Precisely," said Janeway, and she proceeded to describe in gory detail what they had just seen. "This box contains the remains of the late Ensign Expendables," she said heavily. "I want you investigate cause for his death."

The Doctor nodded. "I will attend to it as soon as possible."

Janeway's lips tightened. "Gentlemen, it would appear that there is a murderer aboard this ship. We don't know why or when he will strike again, but I would advise you to keep your guard."

Naomi, pretending to be invisible in one corner of sickbay, gulped in fear

Ambassador Ha'agden moaned softly in the background. "It is no murderer, Captain. It is the Wrath of the Cloud!"

"The Wrath of the Cloud?" asked Janeway in confusion.

Ha'adgen closed his eyes. "It is an ancient folklore of ours." He moved in front to address the crowd. "Our prophecies have a chapter which dictates the occurrences of the time when we could take wing to the skies like the birds of heaven." His eyes darkened. "It was said then when the messengers from the darkest hearts of the heavens arrived, terror and death would rain down upon them and the Marlok colonies." He squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath. "It is all coming true."

When he opened his eyes again, his looked directly at Janeway, and she could feel the compelling force behind it that sent shudders down her spine. "The only path that this could follow is clear. We will all perish in this confrontation."

Engineering was not a very good place to be in when Lieutenant Torres was in it, figured Joe Carey. Nevermind that she had pushed him to the night shift for the last three years; at least it had kept him out of her way most of the time. But not today. The Lieutenant was busy- and had been busy for the last few hours- helping work out the glitches in the Marlok colony's biosphere system

An anguished exclamation and a loud clatter of instruments attracted his attention. Torres had tossed a padd on the floor in frustration. "Augh!" she yelled angrily. "_Four_ hours of work and **nothing** to show for it!" She slumped into her seat in despair, running her fingers through her hair in irritation. 'Their entire system is so screwed-up, I can't get anything out of it." A beep from one of the nearby consoles monitoring the ship's status attracted her attention, and she moved over to investigate, giving Carey a chance to look at the console.

"Maybe it's a problem with their interlinking conduits," suggested Carey as Torres gave another grunt of irritation as the ship's system announced yet another problem. "According to my calculations, they seem to be operating below peak efficiency, and that may be slowing down the power relays and jumbling up the code signals."

Torres turned to stare at him like he was an idiot. When he still didn't move, she snarled, "Well, what are you waiting for? Get started on it, Lieutenant!"

"Aye, sir," gulped Carey, and turned to begin his job. As he turned away, he heard her voice calling out behind him. "While you are on your way to ship's stores, bring back one of those isolytic tools for readjusting the flux in our power cells. Cells four and seven in the engine core seem to be misaligned by fifteen nanohertz." _For the second time this week, _thought Carey grumpily as he made his way to ship's stores.

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Where in hell is that Lieutenant Carey, raged Torres, pacing around Engineering like a caged cat_. I really don't have time for this!_ She checked the chrono on the wall, and blew air between her lips with vehemence_. Of all the blundering morons I had to assign to this job today-_

Someone tapped her on the shoulder. Torres leapt up and screamed.

"Hi. I didn't know you had been reading many horror novels lately," remarked a familiar voice dryly from behind her.

Torres whirled around, furious, to confront Tom Paris. "You!" she exclaimed. "What did you do that for?"

Paris seemed taken aback. "Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't think your reaction would be so… vigorous."

Torres shut her eyes wearily and leaned back on the console. "I'm sorry," she apologized, rubbing her temples. "I didn't mean…. It's just that I've been rather jittery the past few days

Paris moved closer to her. "I wouldn't blame you," he said gently. "After all, with the murder and everything…" He clasped her by the arms. "We're all getting very paranoid about it."

Torres nodded, feeling a deep empathy. "When I think of what that creep did to Expendables, I feel like-" Groping for a suitable word, she opened her eyes to glance at Paris. "I don't know how to describe it! It's like every time I step into my quarters, I expect someone to be waiting in there for me with a phaser, or something." 

"I know." He sighed. "Sometimes the feeling gets me too. What you need is a little distraction to get you away from all this… dinner together, perhaps?" he suggested slyly.

"Oh, damn!" said Torres suddenly, pushing Paris away from her. "I nearly forgot!" Turning to a confused Paris, she explained apologetically, "I'm waiting for Lieutenant Carey to return from ship's stores with the isolytic tools I asked him to get-"

Tom nodded. "Why don't you go check the ship's stores yourself? He's probably still hanging around there taking his own sweet time."

Torres nodded and headed her way out of Engineering.

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	2. Chapter 2

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Incorporeal Nightmare(Part 2)

A _Voyager_ fanfic written by Lt 17 Taya Janeway

A Voyager fanfic brought to you by TaTTooGaL aka fROzen Lt. 17 of 26 (MERSTS)

The corridors leading towards ship's stores were deserted. It was so quiet you could drop a pin and hear it echo. Torres walked slowly, taking deep, shaky breaths. _This is irrational, _she chided herself. Besides, Paris was with her- there wasn't anything to be afraid of, was there?

The ship's store on _Voyager_ was small, and meant to be small, for in the Alpha Quadrant the ship was meant for exploration and not war, and thus only kept a stockpile of scientific instruments and very little weapons. In the Delta Quadrant, it was even doubly empty, due to the lack of replicator resources. Thus it was into this small empty room which Torres stepped into with a noticeable amount of trepidation. _This is totally ridiculous, _she thought angrily_._ _I am half a Klingon, and such unfounded delusions should not scare me! _"Lieutenant Carey?" she asked into the cold emptiness. "If you're there, you had better have an explanation as to why you took so damn-"

Something thumped her solidly from the back.

Her blood seemed to chill and freeze. She turned and suddenly realized that Carey had just given her the explanation as to why he took so damn long.

Torres began to scream.

Janeway sat in her ready room, analyzing the data which had just been brought before her. She surveyed maps of the Lukas sector, deducing the regular trajectory of the anomalous nebula that the Marlok had called The Cloud. It had passed into sensor range several days ago, with nothing had turned up on their censors, simply because the nebula was impenetrable to all forms of scanning known and could only be identified through visual. However, by using records from the sixteen orbiting satellites in the Lukas system for the past eight months, Janeway had been able to plot the elliptical movement of the nebula.

She frowned and took another sip of her coffee. The regularity of the nebula's trajectory was disturbing, as if it was composed of a solid mass and not a swirl of superheated gaseous material that it was. The most interesting thing about it, however, was the large amount of electromagnetic radiation which was emanating from the nebula, apparently the result of excessive thermionic emission from deep within the heart of the nebula. This in itself was a very odd fact. Janeway rubbed her temples, thinking. What could the occurrences of these anomalies have to do with the Marlok's ancient lore of the Spirits within The Cloud?

The door chimed, interrupting her train of thought. 'Come," she said absently.

Chakotay stood in the door way, a strangely detached expression on his face. He crossed the room to her desk methodically and wordlessly slid a padd in front of her.

Janeway closed her eyes, refusing to acknowledge its presence before hearing what he had to say. "More bad news?" she asked in nervous exhaustion. 

He nodded slowly. "Ensign Kenneth and Lieutenant Carey have been murdered." He spoke stiffly, emotionlessly, as if it were mere artifacts he was referring to instead of live human beings. "Ensign Kenny was found dead in his quarters with severe neck wounds after he was late in reporting for the last duty shift. Lt. Carey was killed while on duty. Lt. Torres had sent him on a errand to ship's store. When he had not returned fifteen minutes later, she went to investigate and found him hanging by the neck."

Janeway picked up the padd he had given her and scanned it. "Any other things?" she asked casually, trying hard to keep nonchalant voice and straight face to belie the emotional turmoil she felt inside.

Chakotay nodded. "The padd also includes the doctor's report on Ermans' death."

Janeway scrolled downwards and skimmed over the report. "A timed charge was planted within him, set to explode soon after he received the message on his padd…. God, how sadistic," she breathed.

"It should also be noted that the doctor found no traces of such a device during his last medical checkup a day ago," added Chakotay.

A thought struck Janeway. "If that is so, we may be able to track his movements throughout the past day and determine who may have planted the bomb." She tossed the padd on the table. " By correlating it with the movements of Carey and Kenny we may be able to narrow the list of suspects down to about ten or twenty people. Then we may begin the interrogation."

"Captain…" said Chakotay thoughtfully. "Could it be possible that one of our many guests could be responsible for this?"

Janeway threw him an odd look. "Unlikely. I suspect the person behind these murders has a fairly wide knowledge of the workings within our ship."

"Yes," countered Chakotay, "but why would any of the crewmembers onboard have any motive to kill these people?"

"Why would the Marlok?"

"It might be possible that there are certain fanatic activists among their people who would stoop to anything to prevent the formation of this alliance," he pointed out. "All it takes is one desperate man."

Janeway considered this carefully. Might her first officer have a point there…? "And by killing our people, they would incite us to terminate this alliance?"

"Precisely my point." Chakotay moved closer to Janeway and dropped his voice lower. 'Among all the crowds, it would make it hard to track them."

"Are you suggesting that we disallow the visitors on board our ship for the duration of the investigation?" asked Janeway disapprovingly.

"As a security measure, yes."

Janeway frowned at him. "And what does our Chief of Security say to that?"

"Tuvok?" Chakotay gave a surprised look. "I haven't spoken to him yet."

"I want his opinion," said Janeway. "Talk to him about it as soon as possible." As Chakotay turned to leave, Janeway called him back. "There's something very interesting going on with Ambassador Ha'agden's nebula," she said. 

Puzzled, Chakotay backtracked and sat down. "What do you have?"

Janeway summarized what she had learnt so far to Chakotay. He perused the information, then frowned. "You're right. These readings seem to be rather anomalous. "

"What do you suggest as our next course of action?" asked Janeway.

Chakotay thought for a moment. "Our sensors can't penetrate it due to excessive EM radiation…. The most obvious course would be to send in an away team to collect a sample."

"Precisely what I was thinking of." Janeway tapped a few controls on her desk, calling up the schematics of the Delta Flyer. " We can modify the Delta Flyer's instrument array to include a ramscoop to collect the gaseous material for further study."

Chakotay nodded. "I'll get Engineering started on it right away." 

Janeway's commbadge sounded. "Bridge to Janeway."

Janeway tapped it in response. 'Janeway here."

"Captain," said Tuvok's voice. "An ambassador from the Lukas IV planet is seeking and audience with you."

"An ambassador from the Lukas planet?" asked Janeway in surprise. "It is not Ambassador Ha'agden, I presume?"

"No," replied Tuvok, and his voice sounded remarkably worried for a Vulcan. "She claims she is Salissaj, the high Emissary for the Vorlok people of Lukas IV."

"The Vorlok?" asked Janeway. "Ambassador Ha'agden never mentioned anything about them…"

"Then perhaps you would like to come to the bridge to address the Emissary herself," suggested Tuvok.

"I'll be right there, Janeway out."

The bridge was abuzz with activity as Janeway stepped onto the bridge. "Captain on bridge!" announced Ensign Kim, and immediately the bridge quieted.

Janeway nodded. "Onscreen."

The figure of the hulking Emissary filled the viewscreen. This new entity, noticed Janeway, was decidedly female, with darker, spotted skin and more pronounced eyeridges. Her eyes were an odd shade of scarlet as compared to Ha'agden's off-white. "Greetings, Janeway of Starfleet," she warbled in a saccharine-sweet voice.

"Greetings, Emissary," replied Janeway, noting Salissaj's lack of pomp or tradition. "What brings you here?"

"It has recently come to our attention that you are attempting to forge an alliance with our brother race, the _Marlok_." She hissed the last word, as if it was the vilest thing she'd ever said. "We come to warn you against it."

"Against it?" asked Janeway, the world slowing down around her. Deep in her gut, something told her that if there were any answers to the murders, it lay here between the - what? Apparent conflict between the Marlok and the Vorlok?

Salissaj nodded. "The Marlok are a treacherous race, Janeway of Starfleet." She moved closer to the viewscreen, her figure looming larger over them, like a doomsaying prophet. "Years ago we cast out our criminal caste to the outer lands, here." She stepped to one side of the viewscreen and gestured, bringing up a overview of the inhabited area of Lukas IV. With grand gestures, she proceeded to describe the decade-long war which had driven the Marlok out of the territory. "The name 'Marlok' means 'blight' ," she explained, "They used biological weapons on us, but our technology prevailed and we took away some of their most vital technologies. But it would seem that their biotechnology skills have since regenerated."

Janeway frowned. 'Perhaps you would like to come on board to discuss this,"

Salissaj shook her head slowly, with a tinge of sadness. "We came only to warn, not to interfere. That is not the way of our people." She stepped back from the viewscreen. "Salissaj out."

Janeway leaned back in her chair and frowned. The plot grew more twisted…. Why? Might Chakotay be right in the first place? "It think it's time we had another meeting with our friend Ambassador Ha'agden."

"No, no, no, that's not true," spluttered Ha'agden rapidly, denying the facts which Salissaj had just presented to them. "We have never done such a thing, and we would mean no harm to the people of Starfleet."

"Then perhaps you'd like to explain why the murders on board this ship seem to have stopped soon after we disallowed your people from coming onboard," replied Janeway curtly.

The ambassador lowered his head, nothing to say.

Janeway's lips tightened into a white line. "Then I suggest we part our ways amicably before the situation worsens-"

"No," whispered Ha'agden, his normally sibilant voice reduced to a low hoarse crackle forged of desperation. "For years we have been struggling to bring our technologies back to date. Now, we are so close, and yet you would deny us that chance!"

Janeway rose and walked to face the ambassador. He lifted his massive head to gaze at her with his unsettling cream-colored eyes. Undaunted, Janeway returned the gaze with a steely glare. "A chance to do what? Use our technology to oppress the Vorlok race?"

Ha'agden's voice was strained and cracking with emotion. "If there were no more murders on board your ship while we remained, would you continue this alliance with us?"

Janeway's eyes narrowed. "Is this a confession of guilt?"

"No," he whispered hoarsely, "it is a desperate plea for help. You think that one of our people is responsible for these murders. I can try my best to stop them."

"The safety of the _Voyager_ and her crew is of utmost importance to us," said Chakotay, taking up the thread of the negotiations after a long silence. "To continue this affiliation would be to compromise it."

There was a long period of silence as both parties considered this. Janeway walked to the viewing panels at the end of the room to peruse the starscape thoughtfully.

"Would our innocence be proved if someone was killed after we sever our allegiances? " asked Ha'agden softly from behind her, his brittle voice filled with a strangely bitter conviction.

Janeway whirled on him, furious. "Are you now threatening us?"

"No, no," moaned the Ambassador, stricken, and he sank into the nearest chair in despair. "Then this alliance is doomed- and so is my race." 

Janeway watched the man's reaction carefully. This negotiation was obviously not going very well - Ha'agden seemed to possess very little diplomatic skills and was dragging himself into deeper water at every moment. _It's obvious that they've not had need of these skills for a long time,_ thought Janeway. _So, what are they? Are they a race oppressed by the Vorlok, according to Ha'agden, or does Salissaj speak truth about them being a bloodthirsty warrior race?_

"Alright," she said heavily. "I'll compromise." She faced the ambassador with a straight face and a determined look. "We will continue negotiations on our exchange, but on our terms only. Moreover, you will no longer be granted access to the quarters we have assigned you. From now on, you will remain on the planet unless it is necessary." Noting Chakotay's slightly startled reaction, she held up a hand to ward off whatever remarks he might have and added, "In the event of any more harm to my crew, we will immediately depart from the planet."

Ha'agden nodded, abashed. "Dismissed," said Janeway.

Naomi, fresh out of Sickbay, walked into Astrometrics, looking for Seven of Nine. She poked her head in and found the area totally deserted. "Seven?" she asked hesitantly. Worry crept into her heart- had something happened to her? Naomi quickly backtracked out of Astrometrics and practically sprinted to the nearest access controls, hoping the computer system could locate her before it was too late-

Naomi heard voices- Seven's voice. She breathed a sigh of relief- she was all right, after all. The voices came form a junction further up the corridor. Two voices- was the other one Tom's? Or First Officer Chakotay's ? She couldn't quite tell. The voices sounded agitated, as if they were quarrelling. Well, whatever it was, Naomi didn't want to be caught up in it, so she called Seven's name fairly loudly in hopes that they would hear it and conclude whatever they were doing by the time she got there.

Naomi heard the man's voice say something like, "We'll discuss this later," and they stopped quarreling. By the time Naomi stepped into the junction, Seven of Nine was alone. She looked distressed to Naomi. Had Paris- by now she was quite certain it was Paris Seven had been talking to- said something to upset her? "Seven?" she repeated. "You promised to have dinner with me?"

Seven looked up, distracted, and nodded. "Yes." She checked her chrono and frowned. "I must have forgotten. Come," she said , taking Naomi's hand, "we will proceed to the Mess Hall."

Naomi didn't say anything as Seven explained that she had been absorbed in finding out more about the nebula she and Captain Janeway would be exploring tomorrow, but somehow, deep inside her, she knew that Seven was troubled by what the mysterious man had said to her.

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	3. Chapter 3

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Incorporeal Nightmare(Part 3)

A _Voyager_ fanfic written by a Lt Taya 17 Janeway

A Voyager fanfic brought to you by TaTTooGaL aka fROzen Lt. 17 of 26 (MERSTS)

Janeway was surveying the preparations for the Delta Flyer's flight later that day the next morning when Chakotay came over to her. "Captain, may I speak to you for a minute?"

Janeway nodded wordlessly and followed him, her mind still focused on the issue of the Marlok and the Vorlok. When they were alone in the corridor, Chakotay turned to her and said seriously, "The doctor has completed his report on the last few deaths." 

Janeway's interest instantly snapped back to the moment. "Go on."

Chakotay's expression sobered. "He was unable to find any trace of foreign DNA on the bodies of the latter two," he said. "Which either means two things- the victim did not put up a struggle, or the murderer was wearing some sort of protective clothes."

"Surgical gloves…" muttered Janeway softly, more a rhetorical question as she tried dredging through her memory for where she'd that reference.

However, Chakotay seemed to have missed her tone. "That's entirely possible," he conceded. "I've assigned Tuvok to run through the replicator logs to check who ordered gloves, bodysuits or anything of the sort during the past four days." He looked at Janeway, silently asking for her approval. To that, she acknowledged by placing her hand on his arm.

"We've also narrowed down the list of suspects to fifty crewmembers," he said, this time with more hesitation. He handed her a padd and she immediately saw why. The entire bridge crew- themselves included- were on the list. 

Janeway blinked, and ran through the list. _Ayala… Attman…. Chakotay ….. _"This list is based on those who had close contact with the three victims over the past week?"

"Aye," replied Chakotay. 

She scrolled further down the list. _Hoffman… Janeway… Kim…_ "We'll have to interrogate them, one by one, she said. _Neelix… Nostradamus…. Paris…._

Paris.

"Captain?" called Paris, from further down the corridor. Her heart skipped a beat. Talk about speaking of the devil! "We've finished the modifications on the Delta Flyer."

"Good work, Ensign," replied Janeway, hoping her voice didn't sound too shaky. Maybe she had been too absorbed in thinking about the list and Paris had called her, focusing her consciousness on her name. Maybe she was just being a little too paranoid. Whatever it was, it didn't stop the feeling of something being very, very wrong from creeping up her spine. She shuddered without letting it show.

As Paris turned to leave, Chakotay turned to look at her. "Is there something bothering you, Captain?"

Janeway shook her head. "Only the lack of sleep, and not enough coffee," she replied half-jokingly, hoping to lighten the mood. It didn't work.

"I know how you feel about all this," he said soothingly. "Some meditation would help you calm your nerves."

She smiled at him, and placed her hand on his shoulder. "Thank you, but I'm afraid not. The Delta Flyer lifts off in three hours, and I've got a lot of work to do before that. Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I'll be in my ready room."

Seven of Nine was doing the last systems checks on the Delta Flyer when Janeway entered. "Greetings, Captain," she said perfunctorily, not looking up from the console she was working on. She completed the systems check.

Janeway nodded to acknowledge her. "How's the Delta Flyer?" she queried.

"All systems go," replied Seven, settling into the pilot's seat. Janeway took the seat beside her. "We should be ready for launch in a couple of minutes."

"Janeway to bridge. What's our readings on the nebula?" asked the captain.

Chakotay's voice replied. "The readings have not altered."

"Excellent," replied Janeway, feeling a sense of satisfaction as the shuttlebay was cleared and the airlock's warning signals began to flash. The Delta Flyer's ion engines ignited and they lifted smoothly off the deck and sailed towards the opening airlock under Seven's expert guidance.

Suddenly there was a bright flash of light, and Janeway felt disorientated. She blinked. "What the heck was that?"

On the bridge, Chakotay felt a tight fist of nervousness clench and unclench in his stomach as he listened to Janeway and Seven's report from the Delta Flyer as they headed away from their ship.

"There was no change in any of our readings," said Seven. "Everything is proceeding as normal."

"Still, I'd like to know what the heck that was. Any ideas, _Voyager_?" asked Janeway.

"Our sensors similarly report no change of energy readings onboard the ship or on the Delta Flyer," reported Ensign Kim from behind.

Chakotay nodded. "Captain, I think that it would be fairly safe to continue with the mission," he said.

"I agree," replied Janeway. "However I would like to keep the communications channel open between us if possible."

Chakotay glanced at Paris who was taking charge of Ops for the moment. The ensign looked tired, as if he hadn't slept well the night before. Well, they all hadn't. Paris seemed to realize the First Officer's eyes on him and nodded in silent reply. His eyes looked haggard.

"Acknowledged," replied Chakotay stiffly, feeling his adrenaline levels surge upwards just a little.

The Delta Flyer navigated slowly through the nebula, relying solely on visual only. Gases ranging in color from deep maroon to the gray-green spectrum swirled past the viewscreen, sometimes coalescing to form strangely human-like figures, reminding Janeway of a story her mother had told her when she was little, a Betazoid tale about the angels who lived in the heart of the sky. She smiled at the memory, banishing thoughts of murder and sticky negotiations from her mind. 

A bone-jarring thump brought her instantly back to the moment. "The Delta Flyer's been hit!" exclaimed Seven, wresting with controls. The injured ship lurched and rolled in the gases which had suddenly turned angry and turbulent. Fuses blew, blowing a console beside Janeway outwards, lacerating her eyebrow with a sharp shard.

The shuttle took another hard blow- by what? wondered Janeway momentarily- and plunged downwards abruptly, too quickly for the inertia dampers to compensate. Janeway was thrown out of her seat as she rose to put out a conflagration behind her. Without support, the impact threw her clean across the room, injuring her head on the deck.

"Captain!" exclaimed Seven, and she moved over to help.

"I'm alright," replied Janeway hastily, pushing herself off the floor. "Get the situation under control!"

"What the hell's going on down there?" demanded Chakotay angrily, listening to the shouts over the commlink.

"The Delta Flyer has lost shields and navigational control," replied Paris tightly, referring to the screen which was rigged to display the Delta Flyer's status. "They won't survive much longer in that ion storm!"

"Cause?" he demanded.

"I don't know!" exclaimed Ensign Kim, smashing his fist down on his console in frustration. "All our readings on the nebula are nil."

"A possibility," said Tuvok, "is that the Delta Flyer's shields have been tampered with, causing the shuttle to act like a conductor in the strong magnetic field, which generated a current on the shuttle's surface and overloaded it."

"Whatever it is, they're losing structural integrity real fast!" exclaimed Paris. "If we don't get them out of there-"

"Activate tractor beam!" ordered Chakotay, cutting him off mid-sentence. 

A bluish beam shot out and snagged the Delta Flyer, dragging it out of the treacherous nebula.

The Delta Flyer was in a world of hurt. Gases issued from ruptured pipes, mixing with thick black smoke from the fires which kept appearing one after another. Combined with the trickles of her blood which kept dripping into Janeway's eyes, they rendered her nearly blind.

"Attempting to regulate power surges to navigational consoles," announced Seven from goodness-knows-where. "Primary systems bypassed. Now attempting to reroute circuits through auxiliary shunts.."

In the middle of the cacophony on the shuttle's bridge, Janeway heard a familiar sound, usually welcoming, but absolutely wrong in this situation- the craft's airlock opening. "Seven!" she shouted as a word of warning before an inexorable force grabbed her and pulled her backwards, towards the yawning vacuum. Groping frantically, she snagged on an outcrop- or _something_, she couldn't tell- and clung on tightly. She heard Seven's frantic cry of help-

And then nothing. She was gone.

Janeway gritted her teeth as the air was sucked out of her lungs, hoping to catch one last breath before the vacuum consumed it all. No, not quite a vacuum- the gaseous material they wanted to collect began to fill the shuttle's interior. Her vision darkened as the oxygen content diminished.

The last thing she saw before everything went black was paradoxically, a flash of light. 

Chakotay paced Sickbay impatiently, still waiting, after three hours, for the patient to wake. Every ten minutes he would walk to the doctor's office and bug him for a status report, only to be rebuffed by an inevitable, "I'm a Doctor, not a fill-in-the-blank."

Now he stood nervously at the head of Janeway's bed. Reaching out, he clasped her hand. 'Captain… we need your help."

Suddenly the sensors above the bio-bed buzzed with heightened activity. Janeway's eyes fluttered opened slowly. She focused on her surroundings, then on Chakotay. "Seven ?" she muttered groggily.

Chakotay tightened his grip on her hand in sympathy. "Gone." 

Janeway's eyes opened wider and looked at Chakotay in confusion. "Gone? How?" I don't remember…" She paused, then the memories flooded back. "Oh, my goodness…" she whispered. She tried to sit bolt upright, but Chakotay restrained her. "You must rest," admonished gently. "You nearly didn't make it."

Janeway's blood pounded in her ears. "Seven's been murdered!" she hissed angrily at Chakotay. "They've _killed _her!" She felt a hollow numbness within her, except where she was filled with consuming anger. "I must speak to Ha'agden-"

"Ha'agden has been on the planet for the past forty hours, ever since our conference that day." He said, gently helping her lie down. "We are trying to ascertain whether it is an accident, or whether it was a murder." He knelt down and looked into her eyes. "Captain, we need to know what happened on the shuttle exactly."

Janeway closed her eyes, her lip trembling. "I don't know. There was too much smoke, too much blood-" The horror of it washed over her, and she gripped Chakotay's hand tight enough to squeeze the blood out of it. "She was attempting to regain navigational control when the airlock opened. I tried to call to her, but-" her voice trembled, and broke- "but it was too late.."

Chakotay reached out and drew her tightly in his arms. She sagged weakly against him, feeling that she had endured too much physical and emotional torment in the past few days, and felt the tears coming on. "It wasn't an accident," she said softly. "I might have fallen prey to an accident, but Seven- Seven's not the kind."

The doors to Sickbay slid open and Lieutenant Ayala stepped in nervously. "Commander…sir?" He flushed red at the sight of the two. "May I speak to the captain for a moment?"

Chakotay, convinced that Ayala really didn't want to see his Captain in this wrecked state, shook his head. "No. You'll speak to me instead." With a parting pat on Janeway's shoulder, he exited Sickbay and confronted Ayala. "More bad news?"

"Depending on how you look at it, sir," replied Ayala, handing him a padd. "A security team has gone over the ship's logs, and this is what we found."

Chakotay took the padd and scanned it. "The airlock door was _manually_ opened…" he scanned down some more and frowned. "Paris…"

Janeway, now freshly out of the shower and sipping a cup of coffee, scanned through the report Chakotay had just given her. "_Paris' _authorization overrode the transporter twice while the Delta Flyer was in transit?"

Chakotay nodded.

Janeway frowned. "Can we get a reading on the destinations and the origins of the two transporter usage's?"

Chakotay shook his head. "Negative. Tuvok postulates that Paris used the transporter to beam someone- or something on board the Delta Flyer, which somehow managed to sabotage the systems, causing Seven's death."

At the mention of Seven's death, Janeway felt a hard ball of pain rising in her chest. "But we don't know who, or what, it was."

"No," replied Chakotay morosely.

Janeway balled her hand into a tight fist of fury. "Then we have to find out… the hard way."

Chakotay shifted nervously, as if he had something to say, but could not find the words to say it. He closed his eyes and meditated for a moment, the said, "Permission to speak frankly, sir."

"Permission granted," replied Janeway, frowning in puzzlement.

"With all due respect, we have another theory as to how this could have happened," he said. "There is a possibility…. that one of the passengers on the shuttle manually opened the airlock."

Janeway her glare full upon him. "Are you saying that _I_ caused Seven's death?" she growled.

"It's just a possibility that Tuvok and I had listed out-" began Chakotay.

"But you did think that I could do it," she pointed out softly, a trace of sadness in her voice. Chakotay halted his explanation mid-sentence, paused to think for a moment, then opened his mouth to speak again. Janeway put up her hand to stop the barrage, feeling that she'd heard more than enough for today. "Dismissed," she said downheartedly. Chakotay shut up, abashed, and left the ready room silently. As Janeway watched him go, she felt a new kind of fear welling up within her. _The whole crew is falling prey to paranoia,_ she thought. _Even my first officer doesn't trust me anymore_. She bowed her head in torment._ What should I do?_

The atmosphere in the chapel was melancholy and somber, as the crew of the _Voyager _came forth to say their final farewell to their late crewmembers. Three coffins and a silver plaque were lined up at the head of the chapel. A simple ceremony to commemorate those who had touched their lives so deeply in the past few years, but whose lives had ended so pointlessly and brutally.

Janeway was too strung-up to deliver the eulogy speech for Seven, leaving the Holodoc to do the honors. She listened as the Doctor retold the story of her life after she had joined the _Voyager_, crossing and uncrossing her fingers absent-mindedly. The ice in her heart had now been replaced by a solid, resolute rock of steel, devoted to the cause of uncovering the murderer.

For three hours, Janeway sat silently in the chapel, along with a hundred other crewmembers or so, listening with her heart and formulating a plan in her mind. When the last speech had been delivered, she stood up, stiff in leg and sore in heart, and walked over to the EMH. "Doctor, may I speak to you for a moment?"

"Captain! You can't really expect me to do this! I'm a doctor, not man from the Scotland Yard!" spluttered the EMH in protest as he listened to Janeway's plan.

"On the contrary, I do," replied Janeway smoothly. "I believe the happenings on this ship have caused the crew, myself included, to be more paranoid than usual, which may affect their judgement. Thus I deem you the most suitable person for this job."

"But the Head of Investigations? Who do you think I am, Sherlock Holmes?" The doctor crossed his arms and frowned at Janeway.

Janeway rolled her eyes and sighed silently. She had known it would be hard talking the doctor into accepting his role, and it was turning out to be every bit as tough as she had imagined it to be. "Please, Doctor," she said. "I could have made this an order, but I'm not. I ask you to help me. No," she said, speaking slowly and painfully, "I _beg_ you to help me."

The doctor stared at her with his eyes wide open.

"I know it may seem ridiculous to you," she added, "but I need your help."

The doctor stared at her some more, then agreed. "Alright, alright, I'll try to help you the best I can."

Janeway stood up and grasped his hand gratefully. "Thank you, doctor. I'm sure you'll do your best."

****


	4. Chapter 4

****

Incorporeal Nightmare(Part 4)

A _Voyager_ fanfic written by Lt Taya 17 Janeway

A Voyager fanfic brought to you by TaTTooGaL aka fROzen Lt. 17 of 26 (MERSTS)

The mess hall was unusually quiet, noted Neelix, as he carried out a dish of his favorite homemade leola root stew. Perhaps it was due to the fact that everyone, scared stiff of stepping out of their rooms, were scrounging up replicator rations so that they could eat safely locked up in their quarters.

Naomi Wildman was the sole exception to this rule today. She sat forlornly by herself in one corner of the mess hall, looking downcast. Neelix walked over and placed the dish of stew in front of her. Naomi smiled up at him sadly, and said, "No thanks, I'm not feeling hungry."

This was cause for concern for Neelix, who immediately sat down beside her, sensing that she needed someone to talk to. "Where's your mother? Shouldn't you be in your room?"

Naomi shook her head. "My mum's working the late shift toady." She glanced out at the observation panels and sighed. "And my room's too quiet." 

"It's very quiet here too," noted Neelix, looking around at the deserted mess hall. 

"Yes, but I have you to talk to," replied Naomi.

Neelix smiled genuinely at her, feeling his heart warm at her words. "True," he conceded. 'What did you want to talk to me about?"

Naomi looked nervously around the mess hall, making sure it was totally empty before speaking. "It's about Seven," she whispered in sudden terror, "I think I know who killed her."

Neelix sat upright. This was news to him. "You do?"

Naomi nodded. "The day before the Delta Flyer left, I heard Seven talking with someone outside Astrometrics," she said. "I think she was talking to Tom Paris, and- he sounded upset."

Neelix thought over this for a while. 'You think he killed her?"

Naomi shrugged. "_Someone_ killed her because she knew something they didn't want her to know," she whispered, her voice filled with dread. "And now _I_ know something they don't want me to know…" Her voice broke in distress.

Neelix put his arm comfortingly over her shoulder. 'Don't worry, no one's going to hurt you," he consoled, hoping with all his might that he was right. 

Naomi looked up at him. "I have to tell someone about it," she said. "But I don't know who I should-"

Neelix thought about this a moment, then an idea struck him. "I know just who you should talk to!" he said.

The doctor was alone in sickbay, adjusting the holographic controls for his new program as he thought carefully about the situation they were in. So far, he'd narrowed the list down to three main suspects- four actually, if Ha'agden was to be counted- and all of them happened to be members of the bridge crew. Janeway wasn't going to be happy about that.

The computer beeped softly, announcing that it was ready for the implementation of the new program. Ah, better. "Computer, activate program EMH-seven-alpha-one," he commanded.

The holographic projectors hummed to life, and Seven's image appeared before him. "Greetings, Doctor."

The doctor smiled sadly. "Greetings, Seven." He walked closer to her. "I've missed you."

Seven glanced at him, about to speak when the doors to Sickbay swished open, announcing the arrival of Naomi Wildman.

Naomi took in the sight of the Doctor speaking to the recently deceased Seven with a mixture of fear and surprise.

"Don't worry," soothed the doctor, "she's only a hologram."

Naomi nodded uneasily and made her way past the holoSeven and faced the Doctor. "She's very real."

The doctor nodded, beaming proudly for a moment, then his face resolved into a mournful countenance. "She is as close to the real thing as possible," he replied. 'I was thinking that… I could recreate her just like she was before." He watched fondly as the holographic Seven started exploring Sickbay. "She has the capability to evolve, to learn, to adapt…"

Naomi smiled a little. "Like you."

"Yes," mused the doctor. He glanced at holoSeven, now studying a padd she had picked up. "Do you think the crew would accept her as a person? If I decided to continue employing the hologram, that is," he added.

"I think they would," replied Naomi softly, "just as they accepted you."

The doctor smiled at her. "So, what brings you here?"

The question sobered Naomi's mood a little. She glanced at holoSeven, the pulled the doctor aside and motioned him to bend down a little. "I think I might know who could have killed her," she whispered emphatically into his ear.

The doctor straightened up and stared at her. "Are you sure?"

"It's a possibility," she said, and proceeded to describe in full detail the happenings on the night before the Delta Flyer was launched. The doctor listened with rapt attention, then frowned and began pacing Sickbay. "You think that Paris is behind all this?" he asked. "He doesn't seem the kind."

"It _might_ be him. I'm not sure, but the voice sounded like him," said Naomi. "And even if it was him, he might not have been the killer."

"You do not think that he is the murderer?" queried the doctor.

Naomi thought for a moment. "I really don't think that anybody on this ship is killing people," she confessed softly. "None of us would."

"You think it is the ambassador, don't you," concluded the doctor.

Naomi nodded. "Maybe he's just being… being blamed for the murders," she suggested.

"Hmm. It's a possibility, I suppose," he said. "But all the evidence still points to him…" He trailed off as the holographic Seven of Nine strode up to him purposefully.

"It seems you have not been maintaining Sickbay well, Doctor," she said bluntly, just as the real Seven would have. "After preliminary scans I have found the resonance pulse emitters on two of the biobeds to be out of alignment. And," she continued disapprovingly, placing a white storage box of gloves on the diagnostics table, "I found this box of surgical gloves hidden under the one of the biobeds. I cannot comprehend how you can keep track of equipment in such a _disorganized_ area." She concluded her admonishment with the amount of scorn only an ex-Borg could muster.

With a ghost of a smile on his face, the doctor looked at his two charges and concluded, "I believe I have to consult the captain before taking any further steps."

Later that night, Torres was being accompanied by Paris and Kim out of the mess hall after a late night coffee. To keep the conversation flowing and thus avoiding uncomfortable lapses of silence, Tom and Harry Kim were discussing the morbid topic that was topmost on everybody's mind.

"What really scares me is that the shuttle accident really sounds like one of those "worst-case scenario" holoprograms you had me help you with the night before," commented Harry. "I suppose you never got the chance to run them," he added. Harry sighed, his voice trembling a little. "If only you and Seven had run the program-"

"There's no time for regrets now," snapped Paris abruptly, interrupting Harry and shooting him a dangerous glare which Harry failed to catch. "It's just over."

Torres felt shocked by Tom's indifferent attitude to the death of a fellow crewmember, especially one whom they'd grown so close with in the past few years. "Tom-" she began, but she never got to complete her sentence.

'I think we've reached your quarters," he interrupted kindly but roughly. The doors swished open and he gestured for Torres to step inside. Harry gave him an odd glance.

B'Elanna could have stopped and argued with him about his abrupt change in behavior, but she suddenly felt too sick and tired to do so, and decided to comply with him. Stepping inside, she heard him call a half-hearted "Goodnight" to her before the doors slid close behind her. She walked forwards mechanically to her bed, and sank down on it, feeling drained of all energy. Somewhere deep within her, she felt a strange sick feeling forming and growing like some horrific alien disease, as she reviewed the past few day's experiences with Tom. She felt that he had changed, in manner and in appearance, somehow. She tried comparing her impressions of him a couple of days before, before she had found Carey's remains, and her impression of him just before she stepped into her quarters, and still couldn't put her finger on it. Was it something in his face? His hair? Yes, she decided, it was his hair, it seemed longer, somehow. And as for his manner… Torres shook her head. _He's hiding something from me_, she thought bitterly. _And I hope it's not what I think it is…._

"Are you sure this information is reliable?" asked the Captain, scanning through the monitor which displayed the doctor's report.

"Yes," replied the doctor glumly, frowning. "These are the three people who have had close contact with the four victims and the Ambassador in the past few days," he told her. "I have narrowed it down to three possibilities. " He tapped a few controls, and the captain's brow furrowed even more. "You think is one of them?" she asked.

"Honestly, no," he replied truthfully, "but the evidence present seems to point otherwise."

Janeway frowned. "Chakotay, Paris and Tuvok… This can't be." She began pacing thoughtfully. "And Paris…."

The ready room door chimed. "Come," she instructed, and the doors slid open, admitting Torres who was in her nightclothes and mussed hair. "Didn't sleep well, Lieutenant?" she asked.

Torres shook her head. "No, sir. I came to talk to you... about Tom."

Janeway was instantly alert. "Evidence?" she asked, taking Torres by the arm.

Torres shook her head tiredly. "No, a suspicion."

Janeway looked downcast. "Paris."

Torres nodded, settling into the chair Janeway had escorted her to. "It's just like... he's changed, inexplicably, over the past few days. His manner, the way he talks, even the way he looks! I just don't know what has come over him... even the death of four crew members shouldn't have affected him like this."

Janeway gave her chief engineer a long, meaningful look. "Or maybe we are just overreacting to all this. Maybe we're being paranoid."

'It's not paranoia, Captain," protested Torres strongly, "I know him too well to know that something's wrong."

"There is a possibility that the Marlok are framing him," suggested the doctor. "I do not think that Paris would be as incompetent as to leave a trail of evidence behind to convict him."

"He could either be very stupid… or very smart," countered Janeway, musing over the conundrum caused by this factor. "If he was very smart, he _would_ leave a trail of evidence pointing to him, which may make us rule him out as a possible suspect in the light that he wouldn't be as stupid to do that."

"An intriguing idea," agreed the doctor. He paused for a moment, thinking, then turned to the captain, his demeanor suddenly animated. "I believe we have been waiting to long, Captain. We should now intensify our investigation and start flushing out more clues."

"Precisely what I was thinking of earlier," said Janeway. "I suggest to conduct a surprise check on the suspects' quarters to see if we can find anything."

"Like protective coverings, and private log entries," said the doctor, looking infinitely pleased with himself for bringing up the suggestion. "It is an excellent idea."

"We should start immediately," agreed Janeway. She took a sip from the steaming mug of coffee on her desk, and turned to Torres. "Lieutenant, I suggest you go back to your quarters and get some rest. I think we have a few busy days coming."

"If you have problems sleeping, I can prescribe some light amphetamines to assist you," added the doctor. 

Janeway's commbadge chirped, and she answered it instantly. "Janeway here."

"Captain." It was Chakotay's voice, tense and strained. "We've made several attempts to contact Ambassador Ha'agden, but none have been successful. However, we have managed to attract the attention of Emissary Salissaj, who insists on speaking to you. She is currently awaiting an audience on the bridge."

Janeway rolled her eyes. "On my way. Janeway out." She stood up and nodded to the two. "This meeting is adjourned. Dismissed." She then quickly stepped out of her quarters, preparing to head for the bridge, and heard the doors sliding shut behind her like the doors of Hell slamming her to her doom.

As Janeway stepped onto the bridge, she noticed that it was sparsely crewed by three of their senior crew, the precise three which the doctor had narrowed down to in the suspect list. The latter fact sent a peculiar tingling sensation down her spine, which was part apprehension and part disbelief at her apprehension.

As she exited the turbolifts, Emissary Salissaj and Chakotay were already having a heated conversation as to why the _Voyager_ was still in orbit around Lukas IV, of which she only managed to catch the last few words.

"-poses a great threat to your ship and your crew!" exclaimed Salissaj. She took note of Janeway's appearance and nodded. "Ah, it seems that your Captain has arrived. Perhaps I can talk more sense into her."

"Emissary Salissaj," addressed Janeway. "State your purpose in contacting us."

Salissaj looked mildly surprised at Janeway's directness. "We came here, again, to warn you from staying near the planet so long. Already it has cost you the life of four crewmembers. Would you want more to die?"

Janeway frowned at her. "How did you get this information?"

"How we obtained it is inconsequential," dismissed Salissaj off-handedly. 'News travels fast on our planet. We have also monitored the communiqués between your two cultures, and have noted your repeated attempts to contact the Marlok Ambassador," she added. "I would not advise you to. Not only is it dangerous and foolhardy, but it is also wasting your time. The Ambassador will not contact you."

Heat rose in Janeway's cheeks at Salissaj's inflammatory remarks, but she fought to keep her anger under control. "Where is the Ambassador, then?" she asked. "Are you keeping him in custody?"

Salissaj looked shocked at the prospect. "No, no, that is not our way. We have to reason to detain him. The official report has it that he is in hiding for fear of the Wrath of The Cloud, but our inside sources tell us that he is in hiding, hatching more of his twisted plans."

Janeway's lips twisted up in a slight smirk. "How can you expect us to trust the testimonial of a culture which spies on other people's communications routinely?" _There is more to this woman than meets the eye,_ thought Janeway, and if I press harder I might get close to the real truth.

Salissaj was rather thrown off by this remark. For a moment, her proud demeanor slipped, revealing something more vulnerable, something tinged with sorrowful remorse, underneath. "We did it out of necessity, Janeway of Starfleet," she said, voice trembling. "Under similar circumstances, you might consider it a wise tactical move. We were only trying to protect your vessel…."

Janeway raised a skeptical eyebrow, unimpressed.

"I would tend to agree with her, Captain," voiced Tuvok from the back of the bridge. Janeway turned to him, looking surprised. "It would be the logical thing to do," he explained.

Janeway looked perturbed, and turned back to the viewscreen, where Salissaj had once again regained her smooth composure. "I could help you, Janeway of Starfleet," she said softly. "I can give you information on the Marlok and Ambassador Ha'agden, with your permission."

Janeway paused, considering her options. Could she trust Salissaj enough to take the information? A hunch told her that she would be able to find out a lot more from the information that Salissaj would provide for them, no matter how misleading it might be. She could then make an informed guess… "All right, permission granted."

Salissaj nodded. "I'll begin transferring the required files right away," she said. "End transmission."

As the viewscreen faded to the black view of the stars, Janeway knew the time for action had come. "Lieutenant Tuvok, Ensign Paris, come with me. Have a Security team meet me outside Deck Four, Section Nine. Commander, you have the bridge," she said, striding to the turbolift.

"It's time we had a little spot-check."

****


	5. Chapter 5

****

Incorporeal Nightmare(Part 5)

A _Voyager_ fanfic written by Lt Taya 17 Janeway

All throughout their journey in the turbolift, Paris had been unusually silent, noted Janeway, giving occasional distracted looks to the air. Torres had been right; there was something on Paris' mind, something he was trying to conceal from them. But what?

As they made his way to his quarters, accompanied by the security guards, Paris' behavior became increasingly erratic. He slowed his gait down from a brisk trot to a more hesitant pace, and tried creating distractions to slow them down. It appeared to Janeway that he was trying to stall for time. This confirmed the idea that he had something to hide.

Finally they were in front of his quarters. "Open the door, Ensign," commanded Janeway.

"_No_," said Paris firmly, stepping in front of her. "Not until you tell me what this is all about."

Janeway leveled her gaze at him and bored right through him. "You know what this is about, Ensign. Now stop stalling and open the door, or I will be forced to fire upon it."

"You think I committed those murders." he said accusingly.

"Step aside, Ensign."

"Is that it? You think I'm guilty? Don't you trust me?' he insisted, never budging an inch. "After all these years serving under you, and you still think I am capable of such a deed." His tone grew dangerously angry.

"_Step aside, Ensign_!" repeated Janeway with great emphasis. "Don't force my hand."

Tuvok, sensing the situation spinning out of control, quickly stepped in with his Vulcan cool and informed Paris, "We cannot be convinced of your innocence unless we have finished searching you room. Logic then dictates that you step aside to allow the operation to proceed and to claim your innocence."

Paris seemed ready to argue with the Security Chief when an odd light came into his eyes, and he nodded, turned and keyed in his security codes to his quarters. Janeway had no time to contemplate his sudden change of attitude before the doors opened and the Security team prepared to begin searching.

Just before they stepped into the nothingness they were about to find, Janeway couldn't help noticing that Paris had grown his hair longer that regulations allowed, with the fringe of the back extending to just below the bottom of his collar.

It had been a fruitless search, thought Janeway, juggling between two monitor screens and her now-cold cup of coffee in her ready room. One displayed the information given by Salissaj, while the other contained the results of a thorough sweep of Paris' room and his personal logs. She sipped the coffee contemplatively. The search of Paris' room had yielded nothing and had only further confounded the current evidence: not only had Paris not ordered any equipment which could have assisted with the murders, he also did not have extensive interaction with the Marlok people as previously reported, and in fact was amongst those on board the ship who had made the most limited contact. 

Janeway shook her head, feeling her vision blurring, with an odd tingling sensation at the base of her neck. She hadn't slept well in the past few days, and it was beginning to affect her. She mused about the other pieces of evidence: the transporter logs, the fact that he was in charge of modification of the Delta Flyer…

And the history of the Marlok people! Janeway found herself shaking her head again, at the alacrity of the two cultures as well as the rising headache. She promised herself that she would get some sleep right after this cup of coffee. 

She turned to scrutinize the screen again, more and more aware of the numb tingling spreading up her limbs. Both races they had interacted with seemed equally unscrupulous and backstabbing, making Janeway wonder dimly why she had even bothered to make contact with either in the first place. She lifted her hand to take another sip of coffee to counteract the terrible pain that had begun to surge through her weary temples, but her hand was shaking so much the coffee split all over her table.

The world was a blurry miasma of pain and confusion now. The words on her terminal swirled before her like some lupine spirit from an incorporeal nightmare that she couldn't quite remember, formless, twisting, unreal. Her mug slipped from her numb fingers and smashed on her desk, and some distant part of her detected pricks of pain as the glass shards flew and hit her. Before she slipped into a black world of unconsciousness, a dim thought from somewhere which used to be part of her screamed insanely, _I've been drugged!_

An insistent chirping forced its way into a world without boundaries or limits, where reality merged with unreality to form a spectral world of hellish chaos. She futilely pushed the chirping away from the corners of her mind momentarily, hoping to snatch another moment of unsettled sleep.

The chirping continued unabated, and it now merged with other sounds of soft chirruping and human voices.

Voices….

A strong sense of déjà vu swept over Janeway as she struggled to force her consciousness out of the deep warm dark it had been immersed in.

"Captain," said a distinctly familiar voice beside her ear. "Captain, can you hear me?"

Finally she was able to muster the strength to wrench open her eyelids, which seemed so heavy as if they were made of duranium. "What happened?" she asked hoarsely, as the rest of Sickbay swam into focus around her.

"Someone put a heavy overdose of diaphine in your cup of coffee," said the doctor disapprovingly, shaking his head. "He or she apparently broke into Sickbay, overrode computer functions and managed to get away with such a large dose," he commented, clicking his tongue. "If Commander Chakotay had not been trying to contact you at that time, it would have been likely that you would have died," he said, a touch of unease in his voice.

Janeway's heart rate quickened as she recalled that this was the second attempt on her life. "Any ideas who could be responsible for this?"

"Probably not Paris," said the Holodoc, "since he was with you around the time the drink was contaminated. But," he added ominously, "it could be the interloper that Paris is keeping on board."

"Interloper?" asked Janeway in surprise. 

"Yes," said the doctor, pulling up a schematic of Paris' quarters. "A second sweep of his quarters showed that the grate over the ventilation duct, here-" he pointed to show her "- had been forced open and closed recently." He turned to face her seriously. "It seems that there was someone in his room who was trying to make a hasty exit."

Janeway mused thoughtfully. 'Which might explain why he was trying to stall for time…" She broke off. "Could it be Ha'agden?"

"No, not Ha'agden," said the doctor. 'He is definitely on the planet. However," he said, calling up another list of names, "it might be one of the few Marlok people Paris had contact with. One, in particular." He zoomed the list in on one name. "This man made the most contact with Paris amongst all the Marlok people," he said. "And even more interesting, his name does not show up in any of the Marlok databases I managed to access," he added significantly, looking as smug as the cat which ate the sausage for doing such a good job.

"Not on the Marlok databases, but looks like one of them…." She mused, feeling her heart quicken as things begin falling into place. "What else is there?" she asked impatiently. "Other news?"

'The ship is being combed through to flush out this intruder," said the doctor. "And the three suspects have put themselves under house arrest, leaving Lieutenant Torres and myself in charge of the ship."

Janeway took in the information quickly and stood up, all traces of fatigue gone from her limbs, banished by the sudden new excitement which had seized her. "I need to speak to them," she said. "I'm going to the brig."

Suddenly the comm unit in Sickbay beeped. "Ayala here, sir," came a flushed, disembodied voice. "With information from Salissaj, we have managed to take Ha'agden into custody!"

Janeway gave a quizzical glance to the doctor. "It was Lieutenant Tuvok's and Commander Chakotay's suggestion before they put themselves in the brig, sir," he explained. "And Salissaj was very helpful in the proceedings."

__

Salissaj… The name did not trigger pleasant memories. "Shall I bring him onboard to the brig?" asked Ayala over the comm.

'No," instructed Janeway firmly, causing the doctor to raise his eyebrows quizzically, "belay that order. Keep the Ambassador in custody, but remain on the planet." She looked at the doctor, fire flashing in her eyes. "I think I'm on to something," she said.

"Be careful, captain," cautioned the doctor as she stepped out of Sickbay.

"Don't worry, I will," she comforted him, as the doors to Sickbay closed.

Janeway hurried towards the brig, moving as fast as her legs could take her. She felt a certain sense of compulsive urgency, something within her telling her that she was deep into the heart of the mystery, very close to unraveling the truth. 

Her commbadge beeped, and she answered it with a slight touch of irritation combined with the unpleasant taste of fear that some bad news was about to be revealed, all this while keeping up her frantic pace. "Janeway here," she replied, hoping that her voice sounded as cool and controlled as possible.

"Captain, there's been a security breach in the brig, sir! Someone deactivated the forcefield remotely from the cargo bays and allowed the prisoner to-"

The voice was suddenly cut off as the lights overhead flickered and died, leaving only the pale, eerie glow of auxiliary lighting. "Computer, report!" demanded Janeway.

Silence.

"Damn!" she snapped, in a rare loss of control. She knew what had happened- somehow, their intruder had managed to override their security systems, shutting off power to the ship, cutting off communications. 

Leaving her alone, with a killer possibly trailing her.

Surprisingly the thought didn't chill her. All it did was to harden the resolve that she had to resolve this matter. "Nobody messes with my ship and gets away with it," she muttered silently to herself as she pulled herself into a Jeffries tube and started heading for the nearest weapons locker.

_I wonder who could have done all this,_ thought Janeway, crawling down yet another cramped and dim Jeffries tube, but this time armed with a type-1 phaser rifle. Approximately three minutes had passed since the shutdown, and already Janeway could hear sounds of crewmembers beginning to try to restore the systems even though they had no way of contact with anyone except those around them. _A most efficient and intuitive crew,_ she thought. She popped open a hatch and crawled out into a cargo bay, where Ensign Kim was feverishly working on a console, guarded by a security team led by Ayala.

"Captain," acknowledged Kim as she walked up to him. "The encryption codes installed into the computer are apparently impenetrable. I've tried running every single known decoding algorithm known, to no success," he commented. "But it does look rather familiar…" he mused a while. "Give me a moment. I think I may have something here."

"Keep working on it, Ensign," instructed Janeway. She headed over to Ayala. "Status report."

"We were on the bridge when the systems started giving out, one by one. We managed to trace the encryption programs here and are attempting to bring the systems back online." He gestured to his partner. "Carton here has assigned four security teams to search through the ship for signs of this intruder, keeping in communication with the handheld comm units we designed for cases like this." He frowned. "Unfortunately we only have five of those."

"Excellent work, Lieutenant," said Janeway encouragingly. "I'll be on the bridge, to see if I can figure what went wrong."

Torres was working frantically in the bowels of engineering, trying to bring the inertia dampers back up by trying to siphon some energy from the holographic controls, which were irritatingly still up and doing nothing. It was a fruitless effort, she knew, but if she managed to even get a short burst of energy, anything more than a nanosecond, she'd be able to trap that energy and use it to reboot the damper relays. Fortunately for them, the knockout had encompassed all the propulsion systems on board, but if anything decided to hit the ship right now, they'd all end up as organic paste on the bulkheads.

She was still tweaking with the holographic controls when she heard some ominously familiar footsteps behind her. She spun quickly to confront her would-be assassin, and her eyes opened wide in shock a she registered who it was.

She was still reeling in surprise when a quick, brutal blow to her neck put her worries out of her mind permanently.

Janeway strode quickly, purposefully, towards the bridge, the command center of the ship, knowing she had not a moment to lose. She submerged whatever fears or emotions she might have, knowing that she was relying on a clear mind to survive this ordeal intact.

Through all that suppression, however, one sensation stills remained- that she was being followed by someone, someone with an evil intent.

Her breathing quickened, and she began breaking into a jog, knowing that the faster she reached the bridge, the faster she would be out of danger. She tried chanting something silently to calm herself-

Suddenly, without warning, a figure intercepted her in front at the next intersection. In the poor lighting, she couldn't see who it was, but the silhouette told her who it was. An unbidden reflex gripped her and she blindly fired her phaser at the figure without even checking its settings. The figure crumpled after two shots.

Janeway stepped forward, and her suspicions were confirmed: it _was_ Tom Paris armed with a small hand-held phaser. A strong surge of something- anger? Betrayal? She couldn't tell- flooded through her. Luckily –or unluckily, depending on how one looked at it- for him, the phaser had been set to low stun.

Something clicked in Janeway's head. "The interloper," she thought, and now she was convinced that either Ha'agden or Salissaj, or both, were somehow responsible for this shutdown. She continued her way to the bridge.

Then she heard footsteps behind her. The same ones she had imagined hearing before. She continued jogging, trying to keep a distance, while trying to assess the sound of those feet- not regulation boots, for one thing. Not a crewmember. Meanwhile another part of her was wondering about Paris. Was he trying to protect her? Guilt threatened to overwhelm her.

The footfalls continued.

Breathing evenly and deeply, Janeway tried speeding up her pace. _Only one more intersection to go… _She looked down, counting the steps to the Jeffries tube, as the footsteps seemed to grow nearer.

"I'd advise you to drop that, captain." The voice came from in front of her, a barely veiled threat, but the shock came from the recognition of the voice. She looked up in disbelief to face…

The Holodoc?

"Yes, it was me," he sneered, his voice dripping with twisted pride, caressing a phaser rifle of his own. "I would have thought that you would have figured it out by now, but obviously you are not as bright as you seem."

Janeway gritted her teeth and raised her rifle. "I could still take out your program with one shot of this rifle," she snarled.

The doctor laughed an uncannily evil sound. "I wouldn't advise you to try, Captain. Except for this one-" he patted the rifle in his arms –"all the phaser rifles on board have been programmed to detonate after the first, oh, let's say, two shots." An evil glint entered his eye. "And I have to thank our poor Ensign Paris for taking those two shots for me."

Anger rushed through Janeway. This wasn't the doctor they knew; it was some twisted, bastardized version. Somebody must have altered his program, turning Dr Jekyll into Mr Hyde. In the background, Janeway imagined that she heard someone approaching… 'Why are you doing this?" she demanded.

"We'll take you out, one by one," he intoned slowly. "Then we'll have this ship, all to ourselves…"

"Who's 'we'?" demanded Janeway.

The doctor's only answer was to raise the rifle and train it on her. "This would be a good time to begin saying your prayers, captain," he said, a feral grin spreading across his face, "because it will be the last."

Janeway closed her eyes, frantically searching for a way out of this. There seemed to be none. _I will not go down without a fight!_ She vowed. _There must be a way…_ She mentally reviewed the area she was in… there was an access area leading to a set of Jeffries tubes behind her. If she could duck fast enough…

She heard the whine of the rifle powering up, and tensed her muscles, ready for action.

Then a more high-pitched whine from behind her.

Something -or something_s_, rather- clattered to the floor.

Janeway opened her eyes. The doctor wasn't there anymore. Had he been transported away? Or had she been hallucinating? No, his holographic emitter was lying on the deck, beside the rifle. Someone had deactivated him, then. But who?

Janeway slowly turned around, and her eyes widened at the sight of somebody she thought she'd never see again, somebody whom she thought was dead-

"Seven?" 

The ex-Borg nodded stiffly in acknowledgement. Janeway noted that she possessed a hand-held device that, from the look of it, had been cobbled together in the last minute. "Computer, deactivate encryption program seven-alpha-one-three." She instructed. The overhead lights flickered on and the deep thrumming of the ships' engines began. "I believe I have some explaining to do."


	6. CHapter 6

****

Incorporeal Nightmare(Part 6)

A _Voyager_ fanfic written by Lt Taya 17 Janeway

The mood of the conference room was a mixture between disbelief and distaste. Ambassador Ha'agden and Emissary Salissaj were both seated at the end of the table, eyes downcast, not looking at each other, while a phalanx of security guards were stationed around, watching carefully for any signs of tension.

Seven of Nine took the center stage as she placed a stack of padds on the table. "These are my personal log records for the duration for which I was assumed deceased." She began walking around the conference table. "My first suspicions of the holographic doctor came when I realized that he was not in sickbay during the time of the first two murders. He also confessed to me that he was worried about a degradation in his program soon after Ensign Expendables was killed, recounting a lapse of memory during the exact period the ensign was reportedly killed. When I heard about the accident on the holodeck, I came to the logical conclusion that somebody on board had sabotaged the holographic systems, causing the malfunction.

"It occurred to me that the perpetuators of this scheme could not be the Marlok, as their limited knowledge of holographic technology would not allow them to alter the doctor's program, much less alter it in a way that the doctor himself would not be aware of the alteration. In addition, I came to realize that my involvement with the investigation would surely attract the attention of these marauders, and I would no doubt be targeted. Thus I decided that it would be best if I could work safely unnoticed, and the best way to do this was to let everybody assume that I was dead."

"That's the part where I come in," continued Paris. "When Seven approached me the night before the Delta Flyer's launch with her suspicions and her plans, I thought it was totally insane. But after further thought I decided that it was the best way out of this. So I worked through the night modifying the Delta Flyer to malfunction in the way she described, as well as adding a few storage compartments. And to help us with the plan was Ensign Kim, although he did not know it."

Kim sucked in a deep breath as the implications suddenly became clear to him. "The holoprogram... I get it now!"

Paris nodded. "What you experienced, Captain, was merely a simulation which I had Harry help me program. You were on board the _Voyager_ the whole time."

"The whole time?" asked Chakotay incredulously. "Impossible! That seems a hoax of titanic proportions. We all saw what happened to the Delta Flyer."

"Patience, Commander," said Paris smoothly. "We modified the Delta Flyer's shields to cycle in periodic bursts of twenty minutes. So when the Delta Flyer first took off, its shields were down for ten seconds, allowing me to transport Captain Janeway into the holodeck."

'The flash of light!" exclaimed Janeway.

"Precisely." Paris started striding the other way round. "Thus Seven, alone on the Delta Flyer, modified the shields and opened the airlock as in the holoprogram, but only this time she did not allow herself to fall out. Our calculations for the mission's duration turned out to be nearly correct, allowing us to beam her back into the Delta Flyer, apparently alone, twenty minutes after it had left, completing the cycle. Meanwhile, Seven had concealed herself within the storage compartments it had added to the Delta Flyer."

"Since then I've been housed in Ensign Paris' room," explained Seven. 'We kept in contact by the neural implant I had attached to his cerebral system, here." Paris lifted up the long fringe of hair at the nape of his neck, on which was attached a small gray device which contained rapidly blinking lights. 

"Which would explain his attempts to stall for time on the way to inspect his quarters," noted Tuvok.

"Yes. I was trying to give Seven time to clear out and get out of hearing range," he explained.

"By raiding the database in Sickbay, I was able to confirm my suspicions about the doctor, as well as obtain the information needed to shut him down," she concluded. "I then shut down the ship's main processes to confuse and disorientate the crew as much as possible in order for me to be able to obtain the materials needed to build the multi-phase kedion emitter required to deactivate his holomatrix."

"Between that, I managed to convince Commander Chakotay and Lieutenant Tuvok to bring the ship out of geosynchrous orbit so that Seven could shut down main power without the risk of us being trapped by the planet's gravitational field," explained Paris. "I guess they know the reasons now."

"A brilliant plan, if I've ever seen one," commended Janeway. "Is that why you had to hit Lieutenant Torres on the head?" she asked somewhat dryly. Torres, sitting beside her, smiled in mirth, rubbing the still-sore spot where Seven had hit her.

"My apologies," said Seven. "I have to admit that some of my methods were... unorthodox." If the ex-Borg could ever look sheepish, this was the closest they'd ever seen to it. "But it did serve my purpose rightfully."

"A most wise philosophy," remarked Salissaj, whom until now had remained rather silent. "As one of my accomplices will tell you."

Janeway glared at the two seated at the end of the room. "Now I would like to know the motives behind all this."

Salissaj turned to glare at Ha'agden. "It is simple. All we wanted to do was to prevent you from entering a treacherous treaty with the Marlok. They are dangerous!"

Ha'agden returned the glare to her. "That is an unfounded untruth!" he shouted. "You are basing your assumptions on your knowledge of the Marlok people from centuries past when we last made contact with each other! We have changed since then."

Salissaj sneered. "How could I trust the judgement of one so forsaken?" she spat back. "You are nothing but a unsophisticated barbarian race."

"And this comes from someone who would stop at nothing to achieve her goals, even killing people," snapped Janeway. "Your philosophies are flawed, Emissary."

"Tell that to Appleton," she snapped. "He's the one behind all this, the one who bypassed your female drones' safety protocols to alter the doctor's program. It was his idea and his philosophy that we used in planning all this."

"Actually, I tend to disagree. Killing people wasn't what I had in mind when I mentioned Machiavelli's _The Prince_," came a new voice from the back of the room. A man in his mid-thirties, clearly human, with short brown hair, stepped into the room. "I was thinking more in terms of sabotaging systems, disrupting their power supply." His steel-gray eyes swept the room serenely, then stopped to focus on Seven. 

"I know who you are!" exclaimed Paris. "You are that Marlok I saw fiddling with the replicator controls in the mess hall!"

"I am not who you think I am," he replied smoothly, turning to face Paris, exposing a patch of black metal integrated into his neck. Janeway suppressed a sharp gasp of horror.

"Three of Twelve, Primary Adjunct to the Unimatrix Zero-one," said Seven icily. "His unit crash-landed on planet eight years ago after passing through a volatile nebula and was assumed lost."

"Assumed," Three of Twelve countered. "I survived, and was restored to my humanity by the Vorlok people." He glanced at Salissaj. "They have been very kind."

"Do you approve of their actions here?" asked Janeway softly.

"No," replied Three of Twelve, now named Appleton. "As a matter of fact, I do not agree with the entire Marlok-Vorlok animosities. Their conflict has been going on for three hundred years, and it has affected their societies badly. My advice had been to stop this whole war and start making peace instead. The whole issue smacks of childishness; the refusal to bury the hatchet and share what they have with each other. And I do think it is selfish to trap your Federation vessel in the midst of the conflict. Many of the two peoples want nothing more than peace and a chance to develop something other than weapons of war."

"Did you hear that, Salissaj?" asked Janeway softly. "It seems to me that you are turning a deaf ear to the cries of your people."

The Emissary hung her head low for a moment. "I was only doing it for the good of the planet."

"Perhaps there is still hope," suggested Janeway, coaxing them gently. "A way for your two cultures to work together once again." She paced slowly around the room, and finally turned to face the pair. "Two metals are stronger when mixed together than when apart," she said. "As it is with people."

The pair said nothing for a long time. Then finally Ha'agden raised his head and broke the silence and addressed Salissaj. "You ex-Borg speaks truth. Our conflict has been nothing but a burden, a manacle on our societies' development. It is time for us to put our differences aside and work towards a common goal."

Salissaj looked up, her voice still soft, but this time with a underlining of joy and hope in it. "Together."

"Ow! That hurts," yelped Naomi as the Doctor tended to her burned hand.

The Doctor, back to his normal cheerful self, seemed unperturbed by this. "This is precisely why playing a game of tag with as big an _oaf_ as Tom Paris in the mess hall while Neelix is carrying a bowl of very hot soup is an unwise idea," he said. He smiled at her and finished healed her arm. "There, just as good as new."

Neelix nodded. "Thank you, Doctor. I'll make sure that nobody gets hurt in the mess hall again," he offered breezily, "because I intend to write a set of rules concerning one's conduct in the Mess Hall, including no running, and no food fights."

"No food fights?" asked Naomi, a hint of disappointment in her voice. "But Tom and I were just planning one! And besides, the two of you started the first one..."

Neelix rolled his eyes and was about to rebuff the statement when the entrance to Sickbay slid open, announcing the entrance of Seven of Nine.

"Hello, Doctor," she said, as coolly composed as ever. "I see that I have successfully managed to restore your holomatrix."

"Thank you," replied the Doctor, smiling graciously. "It's good to have you back."

Neelix, sensing that his presence might be intruding, quickly said, "I've got some customers waiting to try some of my new recipes back in the mess hall, so I suppose I'll have to leave now," and exited, leaving Seven, Naomi and the Doctor alone in Sickbay.

"Well," said the Doctor finally, "I finally seem to be functioning normally. Of the incidents in which the Vorlok algorithm took over the functions of my program, I have no memory of."

"Just as Appleton said it would," said Seven. "I should have suspected that only another one of my kind could have managed to bypass the safety protocols I installed in your program."

The Doctor nodded, saying nothing, as he reflected on what he remembered in the last few days. "I wonder if the crew will ever trust me again after this. After all, I supposedly placed the timed charge in Expendables during his last medical checkup."

"But it wasn't _you_ who killed all those people," insisted Naomi. "And it wasn't your fault."

Seven glanced at him. "I have read the ship's logs and reviewed several instances in which crewmembers caused harm to this ship and its crew while under an alien influence," she said. "In the aftermath of these events, none of the persons involved were given any blame for what happened then."

"We just make sure it never happens again," said Naomi.

The Doctor smiled at the two. "Thank you for your assurances," he said. "Now, if you please, I think I have a lot of work to do."

Naomi nodded and left Sickbay, but Seven remained where she was. "Naomi told me about the holoprogram you wrote on me," she said.

The Doctor looked a little embarrassed. "Ah, yes. It was something I thought would... keep me company."

Something in Seven's imperturbable demeanor softened as she walked closer to the EMH. "I just wanted you to know that I am.... touched by the value you place on my companionship."

The EMH looked directly at her, a half-smile on his face. "I didn't even realize how much I did until I thought that I would never see you again," he told her, the compassion in his words warming the room in more ways than any environmental system could. He took her hand and clasped it gently, an act which was so unusual even he was surprised. "And I am glad that I do not have to live through that scenario."

"Are you sure you do not want to follow the _Voyager_ back to the Alpha Quadrant?" Janeway asked Appleton, who was standing, calm and composed, in her ready room.

"No," he replied. "Apart from what I remember of Starfleet Academy and my first assignment on board the _Saratoga_ at Wolf 359, I have no memories of my life as a human," he said. 

Janeway pushed a padd towards him. "I found these particulars in the _Voyager_ database," she said, as he picked up the padd. "That is all the information pertaining to a certain James Eustace Appleton. Sound familiar?"

Appleton scanned the padd briefly, then nodded. "It is me," he concluded. "With your permission, I'd like to take this padd back with me. To the Marlok people."

"But doesn't anything there interest you? Don't you want to meet your parents? Your siblings?" pressed Janeway.

Appleton looked down at the padd emotionlessly, then back up at her. "The facts are intriguing," he conceded. "But I have no emotional attachment left to it. That was lost when I was assimilated by the Borg." His gaze shifted to the reddish planet hanging in space, visible from Janeway's window, and the light in his eyes softened. "Everything I know and love is on that planet, down there. I would like to grow and restore my humanity with the Marlok and the Vorlok people as they learn to work together again."

Janeway nodded, knowing that she couldn't persuade him any further. "I understand. I'll just... inform your relatives back home of your decision."

"Thank you," said Appleton, a hint of a smile on his face. He turned to leave, and nearly ran into Commander Chakotay, who was just entering.

"Come in, Commander," invited Janeway.

Chakotay walked into the room and stood hesitantly in front of Janeway's desk. "The doctor has been analyzing the samples of the gas we collected from the Delta Flyer," he said. "Here are the details of the full report."

Janeway grabbed the padd in interest and scanned it with rapture. "Remnants of a supernova which happened fifty million years ago... large traces of six hitherto undiscovered transitional isotopes, unusually radioactive due to interference with the unique gravimatric signals from the Lukas IV moon..." she scanned further downwards and paused. "Wait. He's naming the six new elements after _us_?" She rolled her eyes as Chakotay shrugged. "I need to talk to him about that."

"Lieutenant Torres speculates that if we managed to recreate the effects of the moon's gravitational field, these gases may provide a substantial amount of extra energy for the ship, which will put less strain on our deuterium supplies," he added. "She has an engineering team working on it right now."

Janeway smiled. "After the past few days, I finally get to hear some good news." She stood up and smiled at him. "Care for dinner tonight?"

He returned the smile. "With pleasure." As she turned to leave, he hesitated for a moment, not wanting to step out of the ready room just yet. "Kathryn?" he called tentatively after her.

She turned to face him, eyebrows raised in expectation. "Yes?"

Chakotay fidgeted a little. "I was just thinking... about one of the last conversations that we had," he said. "And it occurred to me that... as soon as I thought of the idea that perhaps you could have somehow caused Seven's death, I realized that even if that was true, you would not have been at fault." 

He looked down slightly as Janeway walked over to him and placed gently her hand on his arm. "I know you have placed a lot of trust in me when you gave me this post, and I've been trying to keep up to that expectation... and I hope you forgive me. I do trust you."

Janeway smiled and tightened her grip on his arm, drawing him closer. "I know," she whispered softly. "Deep in my heart, I have never doubted it."

Her gaze grew fond as they stared at each other's eyes, stirring emotions deep and subtle inside, as outside the ship, the fiery-hued planet of Lukas IV rotated in its place, finally at peace.

_____The End_____

Author's note: Okay, so this piece is like, totally non-canon because I managed to kill off some recurring characters and I might be writing something to bring them back after my exams (*groan*) So anyway, if anyone has any good ideas for names of the people killed, nitpicks, etc etc etc, do not attempt to contact me because I am a hundred-year-old hermit living on Hoth who doesn't check mail, doesn't do anything except sit around and let my brain rot. And if you totally hate this story and think its utter crap and a three-year-old German Shepherd could do better, well, join the club! So do I! *grin* (I was kidding, btw. *pretty please* review this ?)

Ro Laren (aka Lt Taya 17 Janeway) October 1999

Live long and Prosper with the powers of the PUDDING!

© 1999 

****

Post Edit note © 2001: Okay, so that was clichéd, predictable and poorly written. Go ahead, shoot me for wasting your time! What can you expect of something written when all I'd watched was _le grande totale_ of FOUR _Voyager_ episodes? I couldn't even get Ayala's gender right. (And I STILL don't know if it's a he or she… some say he, some say she… what is this, _Voyager_'s answer to Spot?!?) After re-reading it now I hope to heck my fanfic writing has improved, or I'm giving up on it forever! Bah! *is disgusted by her dearth of literary skills*


End file.
